there's combat in the air, some one looking for a fight. i feel the hairs on my neck rise up, blood flows faster and my heartbeat shifts up a gear. i avoid conflict but sometimes it just tracks you down and seeks you out. this life it's in the form of the pesky bush turkey that has savaged my tranquility with it's discord and disgusting perchance for shitting everywhere. even pan stays out of it's path. 
so i have resorted to lateral strategy, a form of reasoning that came to me via the great occult tradition  and some late century tactical war manoeuvring. 
this goes against all codes of morality so don't try this at home unless you have protection. 
i made a deal with the ravens. they swoop down upon the confused turkey, they screech like demons, peck and surround the pest while it staggers bewildered and dazed. i watch from the balcony at the strange ambush, the big black beast runs for the exit, the corner of the garden where it can hop across into the neighbours. it has worked, now i need to make payment to the ravens whom seek their reward, a thin slice of cheese.
if only i can train ravens to attack all my enemies.